Hero Complex
by Hope Wheeler
Summary: Desperately tired of constantly being defeated by Aladdin, whom he considers highly inferior, Mozenrath strikes upon an entirely new tactic for success.


Prologue - Evaluation

"Again, Xerxes," came the bitter moan. The young ruler of the Land of the Black Sand sat sulking on the elaborate throne of his home, the Citadel, as was his custom after a defeat. Always at his command, the flying eel appeared, slithering through the air near his master's head to make his presence known. The creature had seen Mozenrath in these moods many times before and knew to maintain a certain distance from him.

"Massster?" Xerxes asked, moving just a little nearer. He was, as always, unsure of exactly how to respond to the sorcerer. He simply went with his best guess, which nearly half of the time go him into trouble.

"That . . . fool, Aladdin, got past me again!" Mozenrath exclaimed, gritting his teeth in frustration. Xerxes ducked quickly behind the throne as a silver goblet was flung at the opposite wall, hitting its stone target with, Mozenrath felt, a very satisfying "clunk". "How is it," the young ruler said, in a much more mellow tone, seemingly pacified by the slight act of violence, "that that street rat always wins? No matter how carefully I plan, he always pulls through." The tone of his voice indicated that this was no longer an outraged complaint, but rather an odd phenomenon that he had chosen to ponder.

"Hero have friendssss," Xerxes replied tentatively, only venturing to bring his head partially out of the cover of the throne. "Hero have . . . . genie." Mozenrath leaned forward in his seat, resting his chin on clasped hands as he considered it.

"True, Xerxes," he replied. "True, but the genie's power . . . and," here he smirked, "anything his pathetic friends could boast, are not more than I could match." He raised his head slightly, unclasping his hands to raise the Gauntleted one as if in support of his statement. He sat back up again.

"No, there's something more," Mozenrath added, getting up from the throne to pace the spacious and sparsely decorated room. He paused in front of a full-length mirror at the side.

"Hero lucky?" Xerxes suggested, floating over half the distance toward his master and stopping after making a flourished spiral in the air. He was feeling a bit bolder now that his master didn't look quite so . . murderous.

"It would seem that way," the sorcerer replied, still looking in the mirror. "It's certainly not his superior intelligence or skill. But he always succeeds. He never ceases to somehow evade me," the young ruler clenched the gloved hand. "He gets the fame, he'll get Agrabah, and he gets the girl," he sulked, returning to his throne.

"Masster . . . . jealoussss?" Mozenrath turned quickly to glare at him, and in an instant the pale hand shot out of grab Xerxes near his head

"Of course not," he replied tensely, tightening his grip a bit more before releasing the eel. "Just confused." Sighing, he stood up and began pacing the room again. Xerxes escaped to the opposite side of the room, slithering around in contorted positions to relieve his neck before following obediently behind Mozenrath , keeping a few feet of distance between them.. "Luck does seem to be the only explanation, however illogical. Still . . . . ," he paused, turning to look at Xerxes. "Why him? What has he done to deserve it? Why does the hero Aladdin always succeed when I fail?"

"Hero . . . . alwaysss win," the magical eel replied very quietly before ducking as if he planned to be hit. Mozenrath's eyes filled with fury as he strode over to Xerxes, but suddenly his expression changed.

"You're right." The eel's jaw dropped in surprise.

"Xerxesss . . . .right?" he asked, realizing with awe that Mozenrath had ever said those words to him in that way before. He looped his linear body around in another spiral in pleasure, though he wasn't sure exactly what he had said that the sorcerer so highly valued. Mozenrath moved quickly toward his study.

"This could work," he mused, "it might actually work." The eel slithered through the air to stop in front of the sorcerer's face, looking quite confused. If I'm the hero, then I'll have the luck, and Aladdin will fail," Mozenrath explained, the smallest hint of excitement entering his voice as he grabbed some old books off the shelf and sat down at the table.

Xerxes moved quickly through the air after him, curling his body around a jar of ink on the table, still looking concerned and feeling disoriented by his master's behavior. He wasn't sure that Aladdin hadn't done more damage to Mozenrath than the young sorcerer was aware of in their last confrontation. "Massster . . . . hero?"


End file.
